Ray of Light
by food4thought
Summary: Santana decides to date Kurt Hummel to appease Coach Sylvester's Madonna obsession. Rated T for language. KurtxSantana pairing
1. Give it 2 Me

**Hi, this is my first ever gleefic! I thought a KurtxSantana pairing would be very interesting, considering their different personalities, so here goes! Reviews would be incredible! ^.^**

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"Ugh, crap. I need a younger, inferior man! If I don't find one, Coach Sylvester will kick me off the Cheerios for sure." Santana seethed, slamming her locker shut. Sue's assignment was killing her. Sure, any guy in this school would kill for a chance to hook up with her, but she was so not ready to be a cougar.

"What about Finn? His birthday is like, three days before yours, and he's super-dumb." Britanny suggested.

"We already tried with Finn and he hates us." Santana rolled her eyes, remembering Finn's complete cluelessness. He was SUCH a virgin. She wasn't sure she could take his complete idiocy again.

Brittany seemed deep in thought (a considerable feat for the dumb blonde). Suddenly she leaned closer to the Latina, lowering her voice to a murmur,

"I, like, totally dare you to date that gay kid in glee."

"WHAT? Like, that Kurt kid? Hell, no." Santana recoiled in disgust at the thought. He would be even more clueless than Finn, and she wasn't sure she could take that again without ripping his dumb head off. "Kurt might be the only guy in this school who would ever turn me down."

"That so doesn't matter. You'd only have to take him out for like a week, anyways," Brit continued, "The point is that he looks about 10 years old."

"Then what's in it for me? Huh?" It was a rhetorical question – Santana's popularity would drop to an all-time low if she dated a gay kid. She would risk getting her first slushie facial from her own squad.

"You get to stay on the Cheerios, and… I'll give you my Pradas." A devious smile lit up Brittany's face. "Come on, it'll be fun. Think of it like, an experiment."

"No way." But the Latina already found herself thinking of the highly envied 6-inch heels and planning all the new outfit possibilities. The nude color would look amazing against her dark skin and the height would totally tone her calves.

"They're vintaaageee." Brittany coaxed.

Santana caved. Not for Kurt – hell, no – but for Britt's super hot shoes. "Fine, I'll do it."

For Prada and her cheerleading uniform, Santana would date the gay gleek. She would find a way.


	2. She's Not Me

**Thanks so much for the reviews! Now for the next chapter, which is mostly a filler. Buuut... It's long and from Kurt's POV! I'll be trying to alternate Santana and Kurt POV's, but there might be times when it's two Kurt POV's in a row or two Santana POV's in a row. **

**Enjoy!**

**Oh, I might have forgotten to mention this earlier, but I don't own glee. Yeah.**

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Kurt felt a hand grip his shoulder from behind and he instinctively bolted from his attacker. This wasn't news to him: at least once a day some dumb jock smashed him into a locker in the hallways. Before he could escape, though, he was dragged backwards by a handful of his Ralph Lauren tuxedo blazer.

_Crap, I just bought this last weekend and got an avocado facial!_

He whirled around, "What do you want from me Karvofsk- Santana?" He could feel the shock on his face, "Um, hello there. Can I… help you?"

As far as he could remember, he'd never held a conversation with the slim, Latina Cheerios captain. He could, however, remember her countless boyfriends tossing him in the dumpster and hurling pee balloons at him. His $500 cashmere Gucci sweater still smelled like urine.

"Listen… you." She put her hands on her hips stared at him in obvious revulsion.

"It's Kurt Hummel, wisea-" He snapped but was cut off by her glare.

"Yeah, whatever. I need a favor."

"Ahh, I see. What can I do for you, your majesty?" Kurt said monotonously, hiding his confusion. _What the heck?_

Santana grabbed his arm and yanked him aside from the frenzied hallway. He allowed himself to be led without protest, his utter confusion rendering him mute. She stopped and took a deep breath, clearly about to curse him out for something. But what?

Kurt didn't remember doing or saying anything particularly heinous to one of the jocks or cheerleaders, but you never know with them. They make up with for their low intelligence with a short fuse.

She leaned towards him and sneered, "Kurt, I've been thinking lately, and we should go out."

Kurt was stunned. Whatever he had been bracing himself for before was nothing compared to what Santana had just dropped on him, "WHAT?"

Santana stared at him, dead serious.

"Nonononono… I think you may be mistaken." He tried to compose himself but failed. Where had this come from? How would the head cheerleader, the most popular girl in school, get this idea into her head?

"Santana, I'm gay." Hoping his terse explanation solved things, he turned on his heel to leave.

Suddenly he was rammed into a locker with a resounding _thud!_ Santana was blocking his escape, pinning his shoulders against the cold metal.

_Ouch._

"Listen, Hummel. Here's the deal: I need to date a younger guy for Cheerios and you've clearly never dated anyone – boy or girl. It's _exhausting _to look at you."

Kurt widened his eyes comically out of a mixture of shock and fear, "Um…"

Santana rolled her eyes, "So, since you look, like, 10 years old, we'll date for a week or until Coach Sylvester gets over her Madonna obsession. And for your first girlfriend, what better person in the school than me?" Santana grinned slyly. "Probably the best you'll ever get."

"Okay, wait. I really don't know how to put this gently but I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU." Kurt enunciated each of his words carefully and somewhat exasperatedly. He tried to wriggle out of Santana's grip, but it was like steel.

She smiled brightly, "Fine. If you don't, I can always get some of my friends on the football team to kick your ass. Or I can do it myself." She leaned forward, pinning squirming boy more firmly against the lockers and cocked her head to the side. "So what's it gonna be?"

The intense fragrance of Santana's cheap musky perfume burned his nose. Kurt often smelt it during Glee club but had never had it in such close proximity.

_Someone needs to drown this b*tch in Chanel No. 9 ASAP._

Crinkling his nose, his eyes wandered behind her piercing gaze to see Puck and a couple of his jock friends sauntering down the hallway, slushies in hand.

_Oh no, here come Santana's 'friends', also known as the slushie parade._

He raised an eyebrow, trying to quell his alarm. "Your Neanderthal friends don't intimidate me, sweetie, and I am most certainly not afraid of you." He was still keeping a wary eye on Puck's posse as they drew nearer, slushying some dweeb with two slushies at once.

Santana held back a snort, "Please, spare me that bullsh*t. I know for a fact that Puck dumpster tosses you every morning before first period. He keeps track of how many times each dweeb in this school is dumped, and you're on the top of the list. Actually, he gave it to me and wanted it posted on your MySpace profile this afternoon – wouldn't want the whole school to know you've been tossed over 52 times this year, would you?"

Kurt bit his lip in humiliation. Tears bit the backs of his eyes as he stared back coldly at the Cheerio. He could only imagine how his already nonexistent popularity would reach rock bottom if the whole school knew about his constant bullying.

The soprano took no comfort in knowing that Mercedes would throw a fit when she saw it and try to defend him as always. It would only add to his embarrassment at having someone else fight his battles. He didn't even want to think what would happen if his dad saw the list. Every time he saw how hurt his dad was by the derision Kurt received for being gay, it just tore him apart. If they were going to make fun of him, fine, but why couldn't they just leave his dad out of it?

Santana continued "But I guess we could put that all behind us if I were to date a certain 10-year-old."

He grimaced in defeat 'Fine, give me the list and I'll 'date' you for a week, okay? Now get your hands off of me. This is Ralph Lauren."

The cheerleader smirked and leaned back, releasing him. He rubbed his shoulders self-consciously and also because they were sore after being rammed against a locker.

_Ugh, why do I have a feeling I'm going to seriously regret this?_

Santana seemed satisfied. "I knew you'd come around."

Then, to Kurt's horror and slight fascination, she reached into her Cheerios top and withdrew a folded piece of paper from her bra.

_Ewwww… _

He reluctantly accepted it with his thumb and forefinger, avoiding eye contact with the cheerleader. Even though he wasn't attracted to her like _that _he felt the prickly heat of embarrassment climb up his neck and face.

_Ewwww… she just… out of her bra… ewww it's all warm…_

Daintily, he slipped it into the back pocket of his pants. He would deal with it later- as well as with his new girlfriend.

_Girlfriend?_


	3. Sorry

**Heh, sorry about any 3****rd**** chapter confusion – I posted a third chapter, but I didn't like it so I took it down. XD As you can see, I'm quite new to this site. Anyways, I rewrote the third chapter and it's from Mercedes' POV.**

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Mercedes had always admired Kurt Hummel.

As long as they'd been friends, he'd always been the stronger one of the two. Even when was jerks beat him up, scrawled disgusting names on his locker, or slushied him, he managed to end up being the one calming Mercedes down so that she didn't go batshit crazy. She chuckled, remembering all the times she'd been so close to shoving her fist up Karfosky's nose.

Kurt, on the other hand, never let anything get to him, so it scared her out of her mind when he stumbled out of school that day paler than his Marc Jacobs button down and looking more terrified than she'd seen him in a long time. She had to scramble to catch up with his manic pace.

"No offense, Kurt, but you look like hell. What's going on?" Her warm chocolate eyes darkened. "Did one of those dumb jocks mess with you? Because, I swear, I _will_ cut them."

"Relax, Mercedes, I'm fine." His blue-green eyes were wide and fixed straight ahead, contradicting his statement.

She looked at him quizzically. "Seriously, boy, you're scaring me. Talk!"

"I-I told you, it's nothing." He fought to steady his already higher than usual voice. "I… just have a lot on my mind right now."

"Aw, come on. You can tell me," She was about to elbow him playfully, but thought better of it and rested her hand on his shoulder, "I'm your best friend."

His shoulders slumped as he visibly relaxed into the contact. Still, he bit his bottom lip nervously and walked even faster until they reached his car.

"Are y'all having girl trouble?" She teased him, grinning.

To her complete surprise, he nodded miserably, almost to himself as he fumbled with the car keys. Mercedes gaped at him before snatching the keys away, ignoring his protests.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whaaat?"

He blushed, a deep crimson flooding his pale face and neck. She noticed with chagrin that he shuffled to put himself between her and the car. No, Mercedes Jones was definitely not going to let herself feel jealous – especially after what happened last time she thought he broke her heart.

"Boy, what kind of hot damn mess have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"I honestly don't even know," he sighed, fixing his hair. "It's just this thing with Santana- "

"Santana?" she shrieked, causing Kurt to flinch back against his car. "Boy, are you out of your mind?"

He held his hands up in front of his face, grimacing. "It's not what you think- "

"Aw, hell to the naw! Kurt, don't you dare lie to me." She glared at him until a look of defeat finally washed over his face. He covered his face with his hands and sank to pavement by his car.

"Smegrafflemh." He groaned, his voice muffled.

"What?" She snapped, and crouched down until she was squatting next to him. "What?" Her tone was gentler once she saw his thin shoulders trembling.

"She blackmailed me. Into dating her." He reached into his pocket and passed her a folded piece of paper before burying his face in his knees. "Dammit, I'm such an idiot."

Mercedes read the paper wordlessly, her brow furrowing.


	4. Hung Up

**Sorry it took forever for me to update! I was on vacation and didn't bring my computer that had all the documents on it. :( I'll try to post another chapter later tonight.**

**As always, reviews are love. Seriously.**

**Santana's POV**

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"Girl, just who do you think you are?" Mercedes had crossed the choir room over to where the 'cool kids' sat and was staring down Santana, hands on her hips. As Sue who would have said, she was blurring the lines.

Santana finished touching up her eyeliner before snapping her compact mirror shut. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She fluffed ponytail innocently.

"Oh, don't play dumb with me, girl," she narrowed her eyes, which were, as usual, smeared with some tacky eyeshadow color. Couldn't she at least _try _to care about her appearance? It was hard for Santana to even look at her. "You have no business blackmailing Kurt and confusing him any more that he already is,"

_Ohh, so that's what this is about._

"_Grow up_ already, wheezy. You honestly think I would go for _Kurt?_ Last time I, or for the matter _you_, checked, he was the mayor of gaytown. And I _so_ don't do that." She pouted in a show of false sympathy for the mammoth of a girl towering over her.

Mercedes' cheeks reddened in rage. "Really? Then why did Kurt come out of school yesterday looking terrified and tell me that he was blackmailed into 'dating' you, huh?"

By now most of the Glee club had turned in their seats, watching their smackdown with interest. That is, excluding Kurt – who was miserably looking down at iPhone, - and Puck, who was glaring at Kurt incredulously. "Leave, my man, Kurt, ALONE."

Santana practically snorted. "Please, he is hardly 'your man'. You wish. And fine, we are dating." She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "But what are you gonna do about it?"

"Aw, HELL TO THE NAW!" Mercedes dove at Santana, finally capturing Puck and Kurt's attention. The surrounding glee clubbers scrambled away from their squabble, some calling out encouragements.

Ponytails were tugged, arms were clawed (which got particularly ugly, considering Santana's razor sharp nails), and insults were shrieked. Neither girls were willing to admit defeat and so their fight was only broken up when Mr. Schue walked in.

"Hey, hey… HEY!" He dashed up to the seats and started pulling Mercedes off Santana. She struggled against his hold, but he managed to put a good distance between them. "Girls, what is going on?"

Santana tossed her head scornfully and walked to the front of the choir room, temporarily mesmerizing the club's male population with her swaying hips. She turned and began to sing.

(Santana = italics, Mercedes = bold, Santana and Mercedes = bold italics)

_Yeah, yeah, yeah _**(Yeah, yeah, yeah)**

Y_eah, yeah, yeah _**(Ah yeah, yeah, yeah)**

_Ah _y_eah, yeah, yeah _**(Ah yeah, yeah, yeahhh)**

_Ah yeah, _**ah yeah**_, ah yeah,_ **ah yeah, **_ah yeah, __**ah yeah, **__yeahhh, _**yeahhh**

_Ah yeah, _**ah yeah**_, ah yeah, _**ah yeah,**_ ah yeah, __**ah yeah,**__ yeahhh, _**yeahhh**

_They can say whatever _

_I'ma do whatever _

_No pain is forever _

_Yup, you know this _

She lifted her chin, a glazed expression on her face.

_Tougher than a lion _

_Ain't no need in tryin' _

_I live where the sky ends _

_Yup, you know this _

She placed her hand on her hip and jutted her hip. Her actions were sharp and full of attitude, drawing a suggestive smirk from Puck.

_Never lyin', truth teller _

_That Santana reign, just won't let up _

_All black on, blacked out shades _

_Blacked out Maybach _

_I'ma rock this shit like fashion, as in,_

She began to strut confidently towards Mercedes, who seethed silently.

_goin' til they say stop_

_And my runway never looked so clear _

_But the hottest bitch in heels right here _

_No fear, and while you getting your cry on _

_I'm getting my fly on _

_Sincere, I see you aiming at my pedastal _

_I betta let ya' know _

She glared pointedly at Mercedes before turning on her heel again. Mr. Schue restrained Mercedes from lunging at her again.

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_**So hard, so hard, so hard, so hard **_

Kurt shrank back in his seat as Santana approached him. She stood behind his chair and ran her hands down his chest, pausing so that her head was next to his. She was as disgusted as he was, but she needed to teach Mercedes a lesson.

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah _

_That Santana reign just won't let up _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah _

_That Santana reign just won't let up _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah _

_That Santana reign just won't let up _

_**So hard, so hard, so hard, so hard **_

Straightening up, she strode back to the piano and faced the club. She noted with satisfaction Mercedes' furious expression as well as Puck's similar disbelief.

_All up on it _

_Know you wanna clone it _

_Aint like me _

_That chick to boney _

_Ride this beat, beat, beat like a pony _

_Meet me at the top (top, top) _

_Gettin' lonely _

_Who think they test me now _

_Run through your town _

_I shut it down _

_Brilliant, resilient _

_Fan mail from 27 million _

_And I want it all _

_It's gonna take more than that _

_Hope that ain't all you got _

Her eyes flashed challengingly.

_I need it all _

_The money, the fame, the cars, the clothes _

_I can't just let you run up on me like that __**(all on me like that) **_

_Yeah _

_I see you aiming at my pedestal _

_So I think I gotta let ya' know _

Her eyes flew back to Mercedes' face.

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_So hard, so hard, so hard, so hard _

_Where dem girls talkin' trash _

_Where dem girls talkin' trash _

_Where they at, where they at, where they at? _

_Where dem bloggers at _

_Where dem bloggers at _

_Where they at, where they at, where they at? _

_Where your lighters at _

_Where your lighters at _

_Where they at, where they at, where they at? _

_So hard, so hard, so hard, so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_That I, I, I, I'm so hard _

_Ah yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm so hard _

_**So hard, so hard, so hard, so hard **_

_That I, I, I_

She returned to her seat amidst applause. Even Quinn reluctantly clapped her hands (which was quite a feat considering her huge baby bump). Mercedes had slunk back to the loser side of the room and she felt a deep sense of victory.

Some losers just needed a reality check from time to time.

After high-fiving Brittany and Matt, the cheerleader settled into her seat happily. The only thing Santana loved more than conflict was winning. And she'd been about to reap a sufficient amount of both during today's glee rehearsal.

Mr. Schue patted her on the back and assumed his position at the front of the room. He prattled on about their glee assignment for this week, but Santana didn't hear any of it. Not that she usually did. No, this time she was distracted by a horribly familiar face just outside the door. The face glared menacingly into the room, pursing its thin red lips.

Sue Sylvester had decided to check up on them.


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